


The Father/Son Job

by Alazan



Series: Stiles Stilinski's Criminal Record: The Red Files [2]
Category: Leverage, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Cons, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, Derek and Braeden and Chris work together to chase after Stiles, Family Feels, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Grifter Stiles Stilinski, Hinted Sterek, Hitter Stiles Stilinski, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Eliot Spencer, Protective Nathan Ford, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, it doesn't go well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alazan/pseuds/Alazan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Red Riding Hood Job" </p><p>Stiles is still healing, but with Derek, Braeden, and Chris hot on his trail he needs a way to keep under the radar now that he doesn't have Moreau's protection. Luckily, the Leverage Team needs his help. In exchange for his help, Hardison will help Stiles(or Red as the team knows him as) go dark again. </p><p>All the while Stiles grows closer to the team. While on the con, Nate gets to be a dad again, and Stiles a good son. It's a con, an illusion...but one with real feelings behind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Italian and her informants managed to realize who Stiles really is, while the Leverage team still knows Stiles as Red. 
> 
> The school and the names relating to the school are just made up and not real. Random, fandom inspired named I cooked up

"How are you doing today, Mr. Stilinski?" The Italian asked as she entered Stiles's rehab station. 

Stiles topped the exercise he was doing and shrugged. "If I had it my way, I would have skipped town by now. And don't call me that. I haven't been him in far too long."

"You can be again. One day." She commented sincerely. Then the Italian grinned, and unlike previous encounters, it wasn't sarcastic or sassy. There was genuine happiness in it, which was probably the weirdest thing Stiles has seen in some time. 

"Mr. Ford is being a.. _.como se dice_?" She rummaged her brain for the idiom, "Mother hen?"

Stiles scoffed, but without heat or malice, just slight irritation. "That's one way of looking at it. I'd say he's persistent in wanting another crew member for his team, but they took down Moreau on their own, so..."

This time her smile was a bit more fond, yet still as secretive as her. "He has his reasons. He always does."

"So I should trust him?" Stiles asked. They both knew where Stiles stood on trust. How he took everything with a grain of salt and went out of his way to verify anything before believing in it. 

"We both know you will not. Even when he gains your trust, which I believe he will, you will never be able to not question things. It's your nature. And you cannot fight your nature. Not really." She commented. 

"Please do not tell me that stupid story with the scorpion and the frog. I've heard it and it doesn't make me feel any better." Stiles groaned with a matching facial expression of dislike. 

The Italian smirked. "Not to worry, I won't. I've tired of it myself. But Mr. Ford will not forget that you managed to keep alive in Moreau's inner circle. Mr. Spencer knows that circle well, too. The world is not a fair or ideal place, Mr. Red, so it is always wise to consider a little... _Leverage_." 

* * *

 

"So who's our latest scum bag?" Eliot asked as he walked into the briefing room. 

Parker and Sophie were already in their seats at the counter, Nate off by the side, and Hardison at the front with his clicker in hand. He pulled up a pictures and files that would answer Eliot's question. 

"This here is Evergreen Academy. It's this really fancy schamcy school that typically only the 1% sort of people can get their kids into." Hardison explained. He pointed his clicker to the screen and the picture of the school came up, along with it's teachers, classes, resources, etc. "But over the last decade or so, it's been offering scholarships and full rides to students that qualified. Good, hard working, honest to god, humble and appreciative, thank their momma's every day before steppin' out the door people from blue-collar families."

Nate nodded at Hardison who clicked a few buttons and two pictures of two men came up.

Hardison pointed toward the right, "On the right we have the Dean, Stanford Forest. As far as Deans go, he's iight. Still fancy, but he comes from humble beginnings and actually encourages those who come into the school on scholarships. He's a genius, slightly arrogant and prideful but most men with his status are, I mean just look at Nate." Nate sent him a glare which he professionally ignored. "Anyway, he has sold a lot of patents for the government on security contracts and such with a long time friend. That's where their money comes from."

"I don't see where the scumbag comes in yet." Parker deadpans. 

"That's because they're in the up in up and aren't even aware of the money that's being stolen from the scholarship funds." Nate spoke up as he pointed to the picture on the left. "There we have Buford Williams. On paper, he's another 1% hot shot lawyer who apparently doesn't think he has enough money. And who enjoys ruining the hopes and dreams of those who want a better chance in life. Our client was robbed of their scholarship, we know they weren't the first but they will be the last. Now...let's go steal us some scholarships." 

* * *

 

"It's not going to work." Sophie stated. 

"It has to work." Nate replied in the same tone as he studied the blueprints in front of him.

"No, Sophie's right. Hardison is in as the new tech teacher which gives him access to the school's mainframe. But the only time security is weak enough to allow me inside without alerting all the insane security this school has, is when he's in the classroom." Parker explained. She frowned at the blueprints. "Why so much security, anyway?"

"These kids are related to some really old or really famous families. Kidnappings happen too often. The school wants to protect the students as well as avoid law suits." Eliot chimed in as he entered the 'war room'. "With Hardison and me as teachers,"

" _Professors_." Hardison corrected cheekily. 

"As _teachers_." Eliot emphasized stubbornly. "And Sophie as a councilor, and you planning in as an investor...they're right, Nate. We're short an inside man."

"Well, who do you suggest?" Nate asked them all. 

"The problem is...we already infiltrated enough adults. Hardison's aliases are...good." Sophie began. 

" _Good_? Woman, they're the best!"

"But a school with this much high profile people, they'll notice if we bring in more staff. No, what we need is...a student." Sophie said with a proud smirk. 

"That's, that's great an all, but all the best grifters and well, criminals in general, come with age. We-we don't know anyone- _anyone_ \-  near skilled enough-" Nate rattled on.

"Actually...we do. He may be a bit older, but with the right clothes he can pass as a senior." Eliot said, catching on to what Sophie was saying. 

He himself had actually been very worried and concerned about Red since they left him. Sure he checked in with him every now and again, but from a distance. It was hard not to see himself in the young man considering how close their paths were. Hell, they both walked down Damien Moreau's street and were badly banged up by it. It would be nice working with the kid and having him close at hand. If there was anyone in the world who could give him a second chance, it was them. 

"No, out of the question." Nate said fiercely as he stood up from the table. 

The rest gathered together and looked at him expectantly. 

"Nate. He's an amazing criminal, we know him, we _trust_ him...why not?" Sophie demanded. 

"He's in rehab! Protecting his father nearly cost him his life. He still needs to recover." Nate argued.

"We've all had injures like that. And besides, he may not seem like much to the naked eye, but Moreau specifically chose him to become a specialized Hitter. That wasn't his first beat down. He's had harder and he walked away." Eliot said with as much promise as he could.

"Then why hasn't he left yet? Had he been good, wouldn't he have left?" Nate demanded in turn, while also thinking it reinforced his point. 

"Because he's lost." Eliot said quietly. When all eyes were on him, he continued. "That boy's only family was his daddy and it was once in danger. In order to secure it he made a deal with the devil and submitted to his fate. Sure he did his best and proved himself over and over, but I assure you...he no longer has any idea of who he is. Moreau, or any guy like him, to break a guy in...to get _that_ close to Moreau's inner circle...you have to prove your loyalty. And it's not something easy that anyone can do. But if it kept his daddy safe, he did it. No questions, just 'yes sir', 'course sir'. It's what kept him going.

"Moreau's gone, his daddy's safe, and now he has two choices to make. Run. Or face what he's had to do. We've all seen the kind of man he is....running ain't an option, but those demons he's gonna have to face? They're the devils best and worst advocates, depending on how you look at it. He needs us, Nate." Eliot's eyes were shining with emotion as he begged the leader of their band of misfits. "He needs to know his skills can be used for _good_. That _he's_ capable of good."

The other's faces were gentle and understanding, as well as sympathetic. Then they were all staring at Nate, waiting to see if he would agree or not.

Finally, with a deep sigh, Nate nodded. 

"Sophie, go with Eliot and pick Red up. Hardison, start working on his alias. Parker and I will plan out the entry and exit point while adding in Red's factor." 

* * *

 

"You know for someone who is part of some really secret, secret-organization...you're in the open an awful lot." Stiles commented as he finished his exorcises for the day. 

"You are getting stronger, and your wit has not dulled. I'll take that as a good sign." The Italian commented in greeting. She had a file in her hands today, which caused a bit of curiosity in Stiles. 

Not one for patience these days when he's close to throwing a tantrum due to cabin fever, he asked out right. "What's that? Release forms?"

The Italian smirked, "Not quite. Mr. Ford's people will be here within the hour. Which you will wish to go with."

Stiles sighed, "I don't know...I've been thinking that maybe they're not right for me. Or really, I'm not right for them." 

"If you do not go with them, then there is high chance you will run into either Chris Argent, Derek Hale, or Braeden." She said evenly as she passed over the file. 

Stiles's eyes widened as he paled. In his hands were flight manifests of the plane the three were currently on. 

"To be honest, I thought you would have accepted Mr. Ford's offer from the beginning. But you didn't." She paused for a moment, which made him look up and meet her gaze. "Who did you think saved you that night?"

"I'd hope one of your people." Stiles muttered. 

"Sorry. It was Braeden. She got you to Beacon Memorial and waited. From surveillance it seemed like Derek Hale joined her. But they kept it from the others, well, they informed Chris Argent, but I assume it was for the connections he holds. Once they learned you weren't in Beacon Memorial anymore they began to look. Apparently they've been looking for you for a while."

"Moreau knew I could be messy. Though he enjoyed observing my work, he always made sure my tracks were covered." Stiles stated.

"Moreau is gone now. You are on your own. And not at 100%. Through facial recognition and some of Chris Argent's contacts, they seemed to have found you. They left Beacon an hour ago and will be here before you know it. But, as I said, Mr. Ford's people will be here soon. You have a choice. Mr. Red or Mr. Stilinski."

* * *

 

"Okay so what's our plan?" Eliot asked as he and Sophie walked into the hospital.

"Plan?" Sophie asked him while raising an eyebrow at him. 

"He's not going to be easy to convince. He wants to find a way out of this life, not get involved with another control freak." Eliot gruffed out.

"Nate is many things, but he's not-" Eliot gave her a look and she sighed in exasperation when even _she_ couldn't finish that with a straight face. "Well, he can't simply go back to the way things were. He needs stepping stones and we're the first one. We just have to convince him of it."

" _How_?" Eliot demanded.

"We're _thieves_ , Eliot...we'll figure it out." Sophie said they approached the counter. She was prepared to put on a show to get into Red's room, when Red appeared before them, duffel over his shoulder. 

He held it out to Eliot to carry, "Do you mind? Docs say I shouldn't strain myself. It's not much, but you know...doc's orders." 

When Eliot took the bag from him, Red walked towards the exit while waving at some of the nurses heading in to swap shifts. Eliot and Sophie shared a look before catching up to Red. 

"So you're coming with us?" Sophie asked.

"Yup."

"Why?" Eliot asked, confused. 

"My options are limited, but I do still have them. Right now you're my best one. Because you're here instead of Nate I assume my help is wanted?" Red asked with a cool smirk. 

"There's a con we need another man for. Can you grift?"Sophie asked, taking more of a lead and directing them towards their car. 

"I'm best at recon and in the shadows sort of guy, but sometimes to get a mark I need to blend into different scenarios. So, yeah, I know my way around as a grifter." Red replied as they approached Eliot's car. 

Eliot popped the trunk and placed Red's bag in there before opening the door for both Red and Sophie. Red nodded to him in thanks as he got in. Sophie smiled and thanked him. Soon they were off towards Leverage Inc.

* * *

 

"Hey, how ya feeling?" Nate asked as he pulled Red to the side for a one-on-one.

"Better. I did some physical therapy, which is more than I have done when I've been hurt this bad. Which I have been. I'm okay to do this thing." Red insisted. 

"You sure? Because we can find another way. With you here at least, there's another angle we can play with. I just need a bit more time."

"Do you _have_ the time?" Red asked. 

Nate sighed, "Not if we want to nail this S.O.B."

"Then I'll be your hammer. I just...I need something in return."

"You'll be paid, of course." Nate added quickly. 

"No, it's not that. I mean...I think it's something that should be discussed down the road, but it's not that. See...people from my old life are looking for me. They found me and I'm barely a step ahead. Since being injured, and no longer having Moreau's clean up crew to rely on...I need help being under the radar."

Nate knew he should convince Red to make amends with his family and friends and try to fix any previous bridges that may have been burned. But that was too soon. Red's fall was too recent and his rise would be slow. Not to mention he's made it clear he's not emotionally or mentally ready to face his past; family or demons. So he nodded. "Hardison's the best in the business. No one will find you if you're with us."

"Thanks, Mr. Ford. Now...what's my part?"

* * *

 

"Damn it!" Derek cursed as he stormed out of the hospital, Braeden and Chris in tow. 

They made it back to their hotel, using Chris's room at the moment. While Braeden grabbed a beer from the fridge, earning her a scowl from Chris, Derek went through the files they had on Stiles. 

"I'll pay you back." Braeden said in regards to the dirty look for grabbing a beer. 

"Uh-huh." Chris deadpanned, obviously not believing.

"What? I _will_!" Braeden insisted.

Derek growled and gained their attention. "We were _so_ close to finding Stiles as you're arguing over a _beer_!?"

"It'll have an outcome that could be resolved in a matter of moments, unlike the endeavor to find Stiles." Chris said. 

"If you're not going to be serious about this, why did you come?" Derek demanded.

"Mostly as a favor to Braeden. You can become... _hard to handle_ , when you get in a mood." Chris said evenly. 

"Hard to handle? In a mood? Look, if you two don't want to find Stiles, I get it, he didn't mean anything to either of you. Just go and I'll look for him myself. I'll even pay for your rooms!"

"Derek, it's not like that." Braeden tried to be a peace-maker.

Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, Derek. It was a long flight. True, Stiles meant more to other people but we still cared about him. He worked with us when we weren't at our best. And helped us the best he could. But we should really talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." Derek growled out.

"You may not like it, but there is! The Stiles you want to save because you feel guilty for leaving when he needed you is not the one we're going to find. You may not want to admit it, or even accept it, I know I couldn't! This was a boy Allison's age, he _was_ Allison's _friend_! And he was as innocent as her until I tried to turn her into something far more lethal. But Stiles has surpassed that. He's dangerous, Derek. He's as lethal as Kate."

" _ **Enough**_!" Derek's eyes flashed blue as he silently warned Chris not to say anything more. 

But Chris wasn't going to back down now. "You don't want to see it, I get that. Stiles was the human that needed to be protected. He didn't have powers, he didn't have an animal side to him. He needed a big strong wolf by his side, if it wasn't Scott it was you, right?"

"Easy there, Argent." Braeden warned, but didn't really stop. She knew Derek needed to hear this.

"Stiles killed a very dangerous mobster to protect his father. Not imprison, _killed_."

"There wasn't any proof of tha-" Derek began to argue, but Chris cut him off.

"Oh, come on, Derek!" Chris cried, "Then _why_ did he leave? _Why_ didn't he come back? He was out there in the world, _what_ was he doing that left no paper or money trail? From the few times we managed to get close to him, how many of those times were crimes or investigations or-"

" ** _Okay_**! _Okay_ , I get it!" Derek cried.

" _Do_ you?" Braeden demanded. 

Derek let out a sigh. "I wanted to keep denying it. But I think I no longer can't...If Stiles were a wolf, his eyes would be blue, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah..." Chris replied slowly and carefully.

"Doesn't mean we give up." Braeden added.

"No, no it doesn't." Derek said very seriously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's not too confusing when I switch names from Stiles to Red. He'll be known as Red, even outside of quotations when he's around any of the Leverage teams. When he's alone that's when he'll be referred to as Stiles. The separation of both of his identities is a huge part of this...
> 
> Even if by knowing who the Sheriff is to Red(Stiles) there's a level of respect among the team. They won't go looking too hard and call him Red until he decides to become Stiles again.

"My man!" Hardison smirked as he pulled Red in for a one arm bro-hug.

Red returned it with a smile but before he could reply, Parker got really close and took a big sniff of him. "You smell like a hospital."

"That smell really sticks to a guy." Red commented easily enough.

Parker smirked at him, nodding at him as if he had said the right thing.

"How ya feelin'?" Hardison asked as he walked to the fridge and pulled out two orange sodas, silently offering one to Red.

Red declined with a shake of his head before looking for Nate. The older man appeared not long after and took a moment to assess Red's being. Having been scrutinized by many with the power of Monroe, Red was used to it. He stayed still, but he was tired and still injured so he did shift a bit. Though he did his best to reassure Nate that he could do this and was fine, there was doubt in the man's eye. 

Turning to reply to Hardison he said. "Better. So...what's my alias?"

* * *

"So you know the con?" Nate asked as they took a small walk.

"You're an investor who has come to learn an old flame that's passed had your son. AKA me. You want the best for me and this school is just that. But you're not fully convinced and therefore taking certain interest in it. With Haridson's cover, you're from a _very_ old family with even older money. I am your teenage son. Disinterested, uncaring, ungrateful. Lately the mark is being a bit more reckless and in his search for a scape goat, I'll make a good target. He'll want to get close, convince me of ridiculous reasons as to why I should see things his way, join his selfish brigade, and get _caught_ in his place. But by then, we'll have him hook, lined, and sinkered." 

"There's usually more in the middle but basically." Nate said with a small smile to him. He had to ask again, even though he's asked enough times as far as Red's concerned. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I am. I feel restless and in the need to do something. This will be good for me. It's not supposed to be too action-y right?" Red asked and Nate nodded. "Well, then. Think of it as more physical therapy for me."

"At any time you think you need to bail, just say the word and I'll figure something out." 

Stiles smiled at him a little bit in thanks. "I'll let you know."

 

* * *

 "This isn't working." Chris stated with a deep sigh. Pushing away the files in front of him to the side, he reached for his drink. 

"We've always had very little to go on." Derek grumbled as he stared blankly at the papers in front of him. 

Chris rubbed his eyes. "That's my point. Each time we got close we were convinced we were on the right track."

" _Because_ we got close. That's what it _means_ to be on the right track." Derek grit out, not having the temperament to do this with Chris right now. 

"Hear him out, Derek." Braeden said gently, playing mediator. 

Derek sighed deeply before glaring at Chris. "Make your point but cut tot he chase."

"We need to look at this from a different angle." Chris bluntly told him. 

"What other angle is there?" Derek demanded. If there had been any other way, any other path or source, he would have used it by now. 

"We've always been under the assumption that Stiles was solo. What if he's not?" Chris asked. 

Both Braeden and Derek shared a look with one another before giving Chris another look, telling him to go on. 

"Braeden's worked alone. You've worked alone. I have worked alone. We all know the paths we've taken and the possibility that this is possible. Stiles, though he may not have the funds, has had to go on the run." Chris began.

"His possession." Braeden stated. 

Chris nodded to her before he continued with his theory. "But he's still just a kid. Looking at the cases where we've come close to finding him there isn't a single piece of evidence to show that what he's been doing involves the supernatural. The level of sophistication and ability it takes for someone to clean up messes, to disappear like he has...it's something no newbie runaway can have."

"He needs resources." Derek stated and he can't believe it took him this long to figure it out. Sure he knew Stiles needed resources but never to the extent that Chris was now suggesting. Stiles was clever and resourceful on his own. Able to get what he or the pack needed one way or the other. But this wasn't just about things...it was about people. "You're saying Stiles got involved in some sort of crew or gang?"

"It makes sense. The guy Stiles was worried about in the first place wasn't just some random low-life. He was mob. That's an organization that doesn't take killings lightly. Had Stiles been the one to kill Winters like we think..they would have gone to greater lengths to go after the Sheriff. So...why didn't they?" Braeden asked. 

"Because whoever was protecting Stiles and covering up his crimes has more power than the mob." Derek said. The cogs in his mind were turning and he was already thinking of new ways to approach this. 

Chris took a long sip of his drink before adding. "Whoever was protecting Stiles may not be doing it anymore."

"Years passed without an attempt on the Sheriff's life...then out of nowhere there were plenty. One of which finally landed Stiles back in Beacon. Whatever Stiles might have been doing for whoever he was working for, guess he couldn't do it anymore. They turned their back on him and were letting the other shoe drop." Braeden added. 

"The Sheriff's safe again though." said Derek. 

"I've added a few extra security measures on him and the McCalls just to be safe." Chris added. 

"So now we look back at the locations Stiles has been sited and see who has or had the big power at the time." Braeden looked over at Derek with a genuine smile as she said this. There was real hope again. 

* * *

"Mr. Harkness, I assure you that this is the best place for your son to thrive." Dean Forest assured Nate in his alias. They were seated in the Dean's office, Dean Stanford behind his desk with plenty of pamphlets and spreadsheets with statistics scattered all over his desk. Nate sat across and Jack Harkness as he over viewed the information.   

"I don't mean to come off as crude or ungrateful. I know how important deadlines are here and you offering to see me at all is a miracle. But my situation with my son is rather sensitive. I've been debating about how to proceed. Him coming here means he can come home if he wants, but there are also campus in case he wishes to stay. But on a personal note...I'm not sure whether which option I want. You know our situation. He isn't used to this life. I fear he'll be bullied or feel like an outcast." 

"Our school has a very firm disciplinary code, Mr. Harkness. Bullying isn't permitted or tolerated."

"Maybe I'm sounding like a paranoid helicopter parent here, but I know that a lot of bullying isn't always reported or documented in fear of worse actions." Nate continued on with the worried parent angle. He needed to see the Dean's reactions to this. 

"Mr. Harkness, I've seen the entry exams your son took and I have to say I'm impressed. The way he comes up with formulas and solutions is a fresh of breath air. I really do believe he can achieve greatness with our programs and curriculum. Feel a connection with other students and professors who understand the material as he does." The way he spoke about education made Nate believe that Dean Stanford really valued learning. 

"I have my concerns. I've been reviewing schools. I've heard mostly good from all our options but even the brightest light casts a shadow. I've heard there were numbers declining in the last couple of years. More so in the last couple of months..." Nate made sure that the concern was really present in his voice. 

"Ah. About that. I...I'm not sure how to explain that really. We've had promising candidates enrolled who would and will revolutionize the world! But...for one reason or another, when the semester begins...seats are empty. There's not much I can do but...try to keep up our fundings, prove to the board the programs we have are the best, and encourage parents to be involved. It _is_ a game, Mr Harkness...but in the end we all win. So. Will you consider letting your son attend?" 

"You're very passionate about the education your students receive. I will discuss it with my son, but right now this does seem like the best choice." Nate got up and reached out his hand for a handshake. 

Dean Stanford shook his hand and smiled. "The stepping stones to a better future of mankind rest within our youth. I can only hope to provide the best tools to them to leap forth." 

* * *

 

"So...what do you think?" Sophie asked Nate later that evening. 

"The Dean is clean. And I'm pretty sure he'll make a comment about me and Red in the coming week to Williams. We'll have Hardison keep track of all online activity. See if anything sketchy comes to light. Where are the kids now?" Nate asked, looking around. 

"In the kitchen." Sophie said with one of her very rare and very genuine smiles. "Red likes to cook. Eliot likes to cook. They're bonding very well. I think this is something Eliot's really needed. His past with Monreu was complicated and even though he's come so far...there's part of him that just can't ever really let go. Helping Red..." She looked for words but there weren't any. 

Nate though, understood. So he nodded. "Well, lets go see if we can go grab a bite before it's all gone. We've got a busy week after all." 

* * *

 

"Hey...you busy?"

Hardison looked up from his screen when Red came into the room. It was late into the night and they had an early day the next morning but he still had some things to do on the dark net. 

"Always but I'm a great multi-tasker. What up?"

"Can I ask for a favor?" Red asked, quietly. It was a bit shy, but not timid. 

"Sure, whatever you need." Hardison turned to his laptop guessing that whatever favor Red wanted it had to do with his hacking skills. 

"Derek Hale, Chris Argent, and Braeden Jones...can you keep tabs on their phones?"

"Yeah, no prob. Nate already told me to make sure they can't trace you, so that's not an issue." Hardison tried to reassure him he was safe. 

"It's not that. It's..." he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I didn't have control when under Monroe. But I had discipline and that was a form of control. Everything's fallen apart and I'm kind of losing it mentally. If I can...be aware of their movements, it'll make me feel more in control."

"Hey, man, no problem. I'll hook up the tabs I get on my phone to yours."

"Thanks. For everything...I'm grateful to you guys."

"It's what we do." Hardison offered him a small smirk.

* * *

"You okay?" Braeden asked as she approached him on the roof, overlooking the city. 

"You really need to ask _me_ that?"

 "Right. Sorry."

Derek sighed deeply. "I know he's not the same Stiles I want to find. The one who makes sassy, sarcastic remarks and puns at the worst but admitting-ly funniest times. Coming to terms with the sort of person he's become is hard. He...he was human. He...he wasn't supposed to have that much blood on his hands."

"His father was in danger. He did what he had to do..." Braeden knew it was a shitty excuse but it was one that would have to work. 

"I should have been there to help. Or he should have gone to the pack or Chris or... _someone_! I hate the idea that he was alone." 

Braeden tried to guess where this was going. She carefully then said. "But now we're thinking that he wasn't..."

"I know what he's done is still bad. That it was still his hands covered in blood...but...there's a chance that it _wasn't_ Stiles who decided this path. I know it's naive to be thinking like that but I can't help it. Stiles is worth saving." There was no room for argument on that for Derek. 

Braeden rested a hand on his shoulder. "And we'll save him. Somehow. We'll figure it out." 


End file.
